The Odd Things We Did
by chemicalflashes
Summary: "I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic till I got the letter from Hogwarts. My dad's a milkman, he couldn't believe it either." What odd stuff, exactly? [A collection of rather long drabbles and short-fics]
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Finally, finally I succeeded in writing drabbles. This is going to be a collection of 15 drabbles at most.**

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 **01: My Awful Hair**

It was 8 o' clock in the morning as five year old Colin Creevey glared angrily at his image in the mirror above the sink. A small boy with big, brown eyes and a floppy mop of mousy brown hair glared right back at him.

He was tired of all the teasing he got from his friends about his hair. So what if it looked like that of a field mouse, more grey than brown? It wasn't his fault. It was his dad's fault that he had gotten such an ugly shade of hair colour.

He actually wanted to punch Ben, Eric, Daniel and Rick right now.

I wish I could change it and have mum's hair colour instead of dad's, he thought sadly. He knew his mother was never going to allow it and that she would go off on a tangent about how young he was. Then she would tell him that he was God's creation and that all of God's creations were beautiful and perfect.

He sighed. Oh, how he wished he had his mother's red hair.

Suddenly something started happening— his hair started changing colour! He didn't know how, but it was happening. He stared, half horrified and half curious. The ghastly mousy brown colour was beginning to get replaced by red... except it was not the shade of red that he wanted.

It was crimson. Blimey!

Mum would kill him.

Worse, Dennis would remember it for ages.

He tried washing it but to no avail. The colour just refused to go away. In the end, he decided to wrap a towel around his head and step out after checking that the coast was clear. After that, he quickly rushed to his room and changed his clothes.

If anyone got suspicious, he would tell them that he had bathed. That was the best lie he could think of.

With bated breath he went down to the table to have breakfast. Dad had just returned after delivering milk and he was reading the newspaper, waiting for his omelette and bread. Little Dennis had already spread half of his omelette on half of the table.

That boy really ought to learn to eat properly sometime soon.

Mum's back was turned to him as he took his seat on the chair and prayed that no one would ask him about the towel.

"What's up with the towel, Colin?" Dennis asked.

The little critter had to ask, didn't he?

"I bathed," he replied halfheartedly.

"Liar!" his brother cried. "You never bathe in the morning!"

His nasty brother was too observant for a three year old. He had to give him that.

Before he could say anything in return, mum came to his rescue.

"Don't talk while eating, Dennis," she told him sternly. "Nice to see that you have taken a bath for once before having breakfast, Colin," she added as she served dad his breakfast. She quickly went back to her cooking.

He took in a deep breath. He was safe.

Well, not really. Before he knew what was happening, Dennis had gotten up and teared the towel away from his head. Now he was looking at him with wide eyes. Dad looked speechless as well. For a moment, no one said anything.

In the next moment, Mum had turned around with a plate in her hand...and she had dropped it.

"COLIN CREEVEY, WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR HAIR?"

Oh yeah, Mum was definitely going to kill him.

Worse, Dennis was going to remember it for ages.

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 **I hope you liked it!**

 **This drabble was inspired by my sister, Luna who is always going on about how she hates her mousy brown hair.**

 **REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**02: A Watery Wake Up Call**

It was a fortnight after the crimson hair incident but Colin could still not bring himself to forgive Dennis. It was his brother's fault that Mum had scolded him and then proceeded to rub his head vigourously with soap under running water in the sink.

The colour had gone away after fifteen minutes of washing. The interesting thing was that not a trace of it had been spotted in the foamy water going down the drain.

Now, as he made his way up the stairs to the bedroom he and his brother shared, he thought of the ways in which he could scare Dennis. Mum had told him to wake him up for breakfast and he knew he could use the opportunity to have revenge from his _darling_ little brother.

As he entered the room he saw a very tiny figure sleeping, huddled in a brown blanket on the left side of the bed. He smirked; his brother would never know what hit him.

Colin pounced on Dennis.

"Wake up! Wakey-wakey, up, up!"

He shaked him hard but nothing happened; the little critter was still sound asleep and as still as a log. He bent down so that his mouth was at the same level as Dennis' ear.

He grinned for a moment.

"WAKE UP, DENNIS!"

He had been extremely sure that screaming into his ear would have scared him and woken him up as well, but nothing happened; Dennis just mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and rolled over to the other side.

What kind of dreams was this kid seeing?

Since he was not getting up, the time to threaten him had come at last.

"Dennis," he said as strictly as he could manage, "I'll throw cold water all over you if you don't wake up right now."

Some more incomprehensible mumbling came in reply.

"If that's what you want..." he murmured softly and turned around to go. He was not going to fetch water but to tell Mum that her littlest one was not waking up. He could not throw water on his little brother even though he wanted very much to do so because of one obvious reason— his mum would never stop scolding him if he did it.

He would try one last time though, lest it worked.

"The water's here," he said rather loudly with emphasis on 'here' as he peered at the asleep boy.

Oops, he should not have said it. Before he knew what was happening, a column of water had appeared over Dennis and him. Barely a second later, it had fallen over them with a great and mighty splash and made them as wet as the sea.

He ran away at top speed before Dennis awoke with a loud yell of, "COLIN!"

As Colin sneaked into the backyard with his wet clothes clinging onto him like second skin to avoid his mum's and Dennis' wrath, he knew he had the ultimate revenge from his little brother.

The ultimate scolding that he was sure he would get later was just a tasteless side dish in this euphoria.

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 **Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**03: A Longing For Root Beer**

It was nearly evening and he knew that Mum was soon going to call them downstairs for drinking milk in the parlour while watching the latest episode of Doctor Who on BBC One.

He wanted to watch the show but he did not want to drink the milk. Absolutely not.

What kind of a drink was milk anyway?

It was a drink that brought Dad his income but it was tasteless and white. Now root beer, that was a really refreshing drink. What was milk in front of it?

Colin eyed the clock and saw the minute hand on eleven. It was five minutes to five o'clock. Any moment now...

"Colin! Dennis! It is nearly time."

He huffed as he got up from the bed and wore his slippers. Resistance was futile. His brother was nowhere in sight; perhaps he had been playing in the backyard and was now finishing his glass of milk without any qualms.

That kid's perfection was sheer annoyance. He rolled his eyes as he went down the stairs.

As usual, he had not been wrong in his thoughts; his dear little brother was already halfway through his glass of the vile liquid.

With sullenness dancing in his trepid steps, he went towards the sofa and sat beside his brother. A tray of cookies on the counter table was his only consolation. He picked one up and began to eat it, determined to ignore the milk as long as possible. Which meant till the time Mum snapped at him.

In front of them, the theme began playing on the TV screen.

By the time the first break came, Dennis was eying him, silently telling him, 'go on drink it, or else...'

He knew what 'or else' meant. With a sigh, he picked up his glass and glared at his brother. However, he belatedly realised that he had a penchant for doing strange things.

Two weeks ago, when his hair had changed colour on its own accord, everyone had thought that he had dunk his head into a can of paint.

That morning, when Dennis had nearly drowned in his bed due to the strange column of water that he had seemingly conjured out of thin air, everyone had presumed that he had used a bucket from the bathroom to commit the deed.

They had scolded him harshly but none of them knew the truth. He smirked.

Change into root beer, he thought as he peered into the milk.

Nothing happened. The thing was still white.

Perhaps third time was not the charm, he supposed and put the glass to his lips reluctantly. His eyes went wide when the liquid touched his tongue— the thing did not taste like milk at all!

It tasted like...root beer.

Colin downed the rest of the glass happily as he watched Ace dropping some Nitro Nines and the Seventh Doctor running smoothly. Dennis could just gape at him, forced to stop his chattering for once.


	4. Chapter 4

**04: The Whirling Bully**

They had gone out playing in the warm and sunny Sunday morning in the neighbourhood park. Like most older siblings, Colin had run away with his own friends while Dennis was left roaming around aimlessly among the cluster of trees and bushes.

Now, after two hours of playing hide and seek with Daniel and Rick, Colin was tired and he wanted to go home to have a cool drink of refreshing orange juice, so he bade them goodbye. He knew Dennis was going to have his skin once they reached home by yelling at him continuously and complaining to Mum that he had left him alone.

Well, it was not his fault that his little brother was incapable of running fast.

He knew that he could not present that sorry excuse for leaving behind Dennis to his mum. However, the spilled milk could not be gathered back right now and he sighed as he began looking for his little brother.

He walked to the cluster of trees where he had left him, but he was not there. He checked the swings and the slide but he was not there. Those were the only two places his brother was supposed to be found in. At least that had been the case during the previous two times he had run off to play with his friends.

Colin was getting more frantic by the second. What if Dennis had left the park on his own...and had been run over by a car while crossing the road?

He slapped himself. He was such a bad brother. Then he told his silly and hundred percent over-imaginative mind to shut up. Nothing of that sort could happen to Dennis.

At least he hoped so.

"Dennis?" he shouted loudly, but no one replied. The park was mostly deserted and no one was around to help him out. Even his friends had rushed back to their respective homes.

His steps brought him somewhat near the duck pond with no ducks at all. He never frequented here because the water was very murky and a house to mosquitoes. It was here that he saw two figures— one awfully tall while the other awfully short. The shorter one was right on the edge and one careless push could make him topple over into the dangerous and dark waters. He also knew for a fact that the pond was deep and small children could easily drown into it.

As he neared, he saw that the shorter person was his own brother. The taller person, he realised, was Billy, the local, teenaged hooligan.

Oh dear Lord, he thought.

"Hey!" he managed.

Billy had been so busy in traumatising Dennis that he had neither seen nor heard Colin approaching and thus, on hearing his voice, he turned around with nervousness, thinking that an adult had caught him red handed. When he saw that it only a little child, his entire demeanour changed.

"He was laughing at me. He deserves this."

Truthfully, Colin himself was itching to laugh. Billy was wearing a bright, orange bandana over his shaggy, blond hair while his arms were all covered in strange tattoos depicting what seemed to be...naked women? Eww. He was wearing jeans which seemed to have been torn deliberately in various places. Also, his cheeks were all full of splotchy pimples and acne.

What was there not to laugh?

"No, you can't do this," he replied after a moment, his voice unnaturally steady. "He's my brother."

"Well then you can join him," Billy said with a nasty smirk as he took a step towards him and Colin finally, finally understood what they meant by seeing red. Seeing red meant that you suddenly felt that you had the power to do anything. He took a step back, closed his eyes and rushed forward like a rocket, colliding headlong into Billy, feeling like a hurricane.

Colin had only wanted to give a hurtful push and catch his brother's hand to make a run for it.

He had not wanted Billy to go whirling through the air to land some five or six feet away from them. But that was what had happened and he could not believe what he had just done. He raised his hands to take a momentary look at them, only to find that they were shaking violently. How could a five year old— a measly five year old like him throw a well muscled seventeen year old away?

It was illogical.

It was...magic.

The bully groaned as he tried to get up.

"You son of a—"

"Milkman?" Colin provided helpfully. "Run Dennis, run for your life," he added under his breath.

And they ran.

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 **This drabble is based on true events. Everything, except the bully getting thrown five feet away, happened in reality.**


	5. Chapter 5

**05: Take Me To Church**

Dennis became a lot more appreciative of him after the Billy incident. He did not quarrel with him for even a single time on the way back home. It only lasted for a very short while, of course. Once they had reached back, he complained about Colin leaving him behind to their mum, but he had already known that that was inevitable, wasn't it?

His mum, as usual, scolded him for being an irresponsible and careless older brother. However, when his little brother told her about his feat with Billy, her eyebrows went up and up, and he was afraid that they had finally disappeared somewhere in her long, ginger hair.

She glared at him with those atrociously raised eyebrows and a slightly open mouth. "You're coming with me to the Church, Mister," she said after a few seconds.

Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows and open his mouth.

"But why?"

"Because this is not natural!"

Colin shut his mouth; he knew that it was useless to argue with his mother.

That very evening, he found himself wearing his Sunday best, walking down the path to the little Church in their small town. His mum followed him, a few steps behind. They had left Dennis back at home, along with Dad. His polished, black shoes made a slight tapping noise as he plodded on the rough, country road, his usual happy gait totally absent.

He was scared. What if the priest deemed him to be something evil and satanic?

Colin had never been frightened of encountering the old, thin man who never stopped smiling. Never ever had he associated him with fear and treachery. But today his heart was beating extra fast. Who knew what would happen to him in the next few hours? What if he was a freak? Would they send him to work in the circus? He certainly hoped not.

"Stop thinking like this!" he muttered to himself as he kicked a loose pebble from the ground.

Due to all his contemplation, little Colin did not realise that they had already reached their destination. The large place was empty, but Father Selwyn was there to greet them.

"Hello, and how may I help you today?" he beamed.

His mother did not reply for a few moments, and her spine stiffened a little.

"Oh Father, I am extremely worried for this boy of mine." Her voice cracked considerably and Colin gulped in lots of air as he peered up at her face from his position down below.

"Uh-huh. And why are you worried? Has he been a bad boy?" Here the man stopped speaking so that he could glare playfully at him, with raised brows and lips stretched into a frown far too long. He knew that this glare meant nothing and that in fact it was quite harmless, but these thoughts did nothing to settle his restlessness.

"Y-You see, Father, his brother told me that this morning Colin threw away a boy far too larger than him, and the other day he changed his hair to crimson! Is something wrong with him? Has he been possessed?"

 _Eek._ This was the question that he had been dreading all along.

Instead of starting a frightening interrogation, the old priest gave him a warm, kind smile; a smile that said, 'Hey lad, I understand.'

"Mrs. Creevey, I feel there's nothing to be worried about, but I would like to talk to him. Alone."

"Yes, yes, of course," she replied in a queasy tone, the anxiousness dripping out of her voice.

Once she was gone, the man turned all of his attention towards him.

"Now child, what's all this that I just heard about?"

Colin did not meet his intelligent, grey eyes for a few seconds and glanced around. He was very, very nervous. However, as soon as he was opening his mouth to utter some hopeless lie, he was cut short by Father Selwyn.

"Wait, don't tell me, because I already know."

"You do?" he murmured with wide eyes.

"Yes," the priest sighed. "In a really mysterious way, you are special. I knew many people like you back when I was naïve, young child myself." For some unknown reason, his voice sounded bitter.

Colin released a sudden breath that he hadn't realised that he had been holding.

"Does that mean that I won't have to work in the circus?"

"Why, of course not! Whatever made you think that? Now run along. I'll tell your mother that everything is fine."

The little boy thanked him solemnly and turned around to go out.

"Oh, and child?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Take care...to not advertise, umm, your abilities when you can help it. Okay?"

He was far too giddy to respond coherently at that moment, but later that night, as he sat up in his bed to peer into the darkness of his room, he could not help but recall the old man's words.

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 **Selwyn... Now where have I heard that before?**

 **Please review. ㈴2 ㈎9**


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